


Venn Diagrams and Code

by FallacyFallacy



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Angst, M/M, Navel Contemplation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-02
Updated: 2012-09-02
Packaged: 2017-11-13 09:10:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/501838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallacyFallacy/pseuds/FallacyFallacy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But heart players don't unite. They split.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Venn Diagrams and Code

**Author's Note:**

> Experimenting with doing the dialogue pesterlog style. Think it probably requires the fic to be written specifically thinking about the fact that it'll be done that way, but the product isn't too bad, IMO. Apart from that? This whole thing just started from an off-hand idea I had that was too intriguing not to write up. Hope you enjoy!

** TT: Are you awake? **

The place feels lonelier than usual, somehow.

...which is a pretty fucking weird thing to think, all things considered. It seems to come out of nowhere and it suddenly jolts him, like a burst of feeling hot and important centered somewhere unconscious and forgotten like his ankle or ring finger. He feels himself tense as though to do something, but as soon as the energy enters him it leaves. He frowns, but then Jake is replying to him, which is pretty much always the most important thing, so he ignores it.

**** GT: Yeah its 8 o'clock right on the dot over here so i was about to hit the sack!  
TT: Wow, really? That's so early.  
GT: Well if i went to bed late like you guys do id be snoozing like a baby half the time you were all awake!  
  
TT: Seriously?  
GT: Yeah. I mean i guess thats early but ive done that for a really long time so im sort of used to it?  
TT: Huh. That does make sense. It's not like time means all that much to me or Roxy, either.  
TT: Hell, I end up staying up all night myself sometimes or whatever.  
GT: Yes i do know!  
GT: So what did you want?  
TT: Oh, nothing, really. Just pissed off about something.  
GT: What is it?  
TT: Just can't get this fucking code to work. I'm so close, I know I am. But every time I go through it I find another little mistake.  
TT: I'd just run it and see how it goes, but this is an artificial intelligence we're talking about here – an actual fucking person. I'm not gonna risk it having some kind of hideous deformity in its behaviour or personality just 'cause I couldn't be bothered doing it properly the first time.  
GT: Ahh of course the autoresponder!  
TT: Yep.  
TT: Still not done yet.  
GT: Well golly yes i could see how that could be a right fucking pickle there. It'd be bloody weird seeing some clone of you acting all mutated or whatnot!  
GT: Like some kind of walking talking uncanny valley!  
GT: Or just talking anyway.  
TT: Exactly.  
TT: And if I've done it right, he should have approximately the same mental capacity of a human. I can't in good conscience just blow it off and fuck him up permanently.  
TT: I mean, I could fix the mistakes later, but that's kind of screwed up in itself, you know?  
GT: Yeah it really is! Like can you imagine someone poking around in your brain and like changing who you are and stuff?  
TT: It's a fucking nightmare.  
GT: Yeah.  
GT: Have you tried asking roxy?  
TT: Yeah, but I have to check it over again after, too. And I keep finding more stupid mistakes.  
TT: Not that it's her fault. If I did it properly the first time she wouldn't need to check it at all.  
GT: Its funny hearing this i guess i always just figured that in the future everything would be all technologically superior and you could do almost anything!  
TT: Yeah. It's a nice idea, but humans are still flawed and no matter how far advanced the technology in one era is compared to another, there are still gonna be limitations.  
GT: Well youre a heck of a lot less than most people so im sure youll manage it eventually!  
GT: Haha wait i meant like talking about computer-wise or whatever.  
GT: *tugs collar*  
TT: Uh, sure.  
TT: But thanks for listening, I guess. I know this stuff isn't exactly your thing.  
TT: I feel like I've been bringing this up a lot lately.  
GT: Well yeah obviously i mean you're doing something pretty frickin huge! Youre actually sort of creating life!  
GT: I mean isnt that the thing that people who are going to have children just cant stop talking about it?  
TT: Ok when you say it like that suddenly this whole thing sounds like the worst idea ever.  
GT: No dont!!  
GT: Its just that its really amazing and also kind of incredible so honestly im not surprised youre thinking about it a lot!  
GT: Also a lot of work as well!  
TT: Thanks. That means a lot to me.  
GT: Haha!  
TT: No, really. This whole thing is pretty frustrating at times, especially now that I'm near the end, and you've really helped a lot.  
TT: Just wanted to say that, I guess.  
GT: Haha um yeah  
TT: What?  
GT: Nothing! Nothing.  
TT: Er...ok, then?  
GT: So um what did you say next?  
TT: What? Say next when? What are you talking about?  
GT: Wait...  
GT: Oh fuck no.

Dirk jumps. For a little while now he's had an indescribable feeling that this conversation is playing on some sort of old record which has decayed and grown faulty over the years. Like he keeps missing important things and getting lost all over again, or like time is jumping around him like some overenthusiastic fucking pixie spreading temporal distortions like fairy dust.

** GT: Its one of THOSE again.  
TT: ...one of what? **

Suddenly, everything changes.

The world melts – no, it _pixellates_ , and the new area sharpens from blurry shapes to distinct images, little items here and there appearing out of the ether, like some kind of shitty laggy game. When it finishes, he's standing in a strange room (a bed, a bunch of guns all over the place, movie posters so tightly packed it almost looks like some kind of unnervingly starey wallpaper) and in front of him is Jake. That fact shocks him more than everything else – Jake, in the flesh in front of him, real and there and so, so attractive, both everything and nothing like he expected – but then Jake is talking again and he snaps himself out of his reverie within a split second.

Dont play dumb. You told me all about this before you know what i'm talking about. Jake shakes his head, threading his hand through his hair. I guess? I mean its you again. Kinda weird. I guess im thinking about you a lot maybe...

Dirk had hoped that their conversation would start making sense once one of them figured out what the problem was. Apparently not. I have no idea what you're talking about, so I'm guessing not.

Really? Jake frowns. So...youre not like thought dirk.

I...don't think so.

Jake frowns, stepping forward. Dirk holds his ground, trying to focus his thoughts, but the concerned way Jake nibbles on his bottom lip is worrying enough that the effort isn't necessary.

But you shouldn't...unless... He peers forward and Dirk resists the urge to flinch, highly uncomfortable with this unexpected surveillance.

Unless what?

Jake suddenly shakes his head, laughing. No i remember! Its nothing. Its just that youre not supposed to be able to go in dream bubbles unless you or your dreamself is dead but I guess that mustve happened if you're here! Can't say i really understand it myself... I thought you were supposed to unite with it or something? Or did you take its place? Or maybe since it died...

Dirk stares at him. That makes no fucking sense whatsoever. No, you're right... He looks away, trying to think. What happened? His memories are slippery and thick and trying to grab hold of them feels like nailing jell-o to a tree. 

It doesn't sound right. It worked, he knows it worked. He should have united.

But...no.

He's a heart player. He doesn't unite. He splits.

Jake gasps, suddenly, but Dirk barely hears him. His blood is pumping in his ears. If he tries, faintly, he can remember it: the adrenaline rushing through him, the way his hands tensed and convulsed on the metal, that single moment of soul-rending fear when he pressed the button.

He's dead.

Dirk... Jake says, and Dirk blinks his eyes into focus. It doesn't look real – too colorful, too fake. Time seems to move more slowly, like his comprehension is just that tiny bit faster than anyone else's. Even Jake seems somehow not real, like an incredibly accurate computer program implanted in his brain.

But Jake is staring at him – staring at his chest – so he looks down.

Oh. Blood. He reaches for it absently, feeling his neck move strangely; there must be a thin slice there. His head doesn't wobble, though, and he feels no pain. Side effect of being dead?

I think... Jake swallows and Dirk remembers all in a rush that he isn't the only person here. Jake _is_ real, and is no doubt feeling pretty fucking upset about all of this. Jake steps forward.  Could you...take off your shades?

Dirk does it without question. Whatever Jake is worried about, he'll find it. He peers forward and then, with the most heartbreaking expression Dirk could imagine, his face falls.

I... Jake purses his lips together, then frowns, then glances away, but glances back instantly. I think...youre a ghost.

Dirk nods, absently. That makes sense, he guesses. Well, ok, it really doesn't, but it's – consistent. This whole game is fucked up enough already, ghosts are really just the final piece, aren't they?

He doesn't...feel like a ghost. He doesn't know what he feels.

Um what do you – remember? You were alive the last time i saw you. I dont know – And i dont think Ive been asleep for long you cant have – But i might be wrong. What do my eyes look like?

He looks. Green, he says.

Jake jumps. Well i mean – i still dont really know. Maybe it was just an alien thing? Not that you could be but... He rubs the back of his neck. Do you remember? Anything?

Dirk looks away. Comic books everywhere. Jake's room. He doesn't want to do this – he wants to just look around, and talk with Jake, and go back to talking like they were earlier, but Dirk has had a lot of experience with Not Doing Things, especially things he wants to do, so he tells himself to focus and, slightly depressingly, he does it without complaint.

Not much. But I'm pretty sure I know what happened. Not why, maybe, but – yeah. He shakes his head. My dreamself is still alive. Or he should be.

Does it work that way?

Who the fuck knows how any of this works? I don't even know what the fuck dreambubbles are. Or ghosts or whatever.

Hm yeah.

Dirk frowns. He starts early and follows the story through – Jake and Jane were in trouble, and then Roxy was as well, and he needed to save them... He came up with a plan – he knows it worked, he feels satisfied about it, he doesn't feel worried, and Jake is here now... He was going to revive his dreamself – it still exists, he knows it does, that's why Jake thought he was alive – but...

...he died.

But that's not how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to unite with his dreamself – wasn't that how it happened? It worked with Jane and Roxy. He killed this body and lived on in that one. So was this a glitch? He died, but his dreamself should have come back back earlier... Maybe the game was confused – he controlled them both at the same time, but then for a few moments he controlled them separately, and when he died the game interpreted them separately and labelled him as a ghost, and that's why...

...but no. That would be possible, but it isn't right. Deep down, in a strange, limited recess of knowledge that Dirk knows by his own reason was implanted by the game, he knows that Heart players just don't do that. They don't unite. They split. 

He split. One of his bodies alive, one dead. His consciousness divided.

He pauses. He swallows. He straightens.

And I'm dead.

Jake looks at him slowly, softly. Are...you sure?

Dirk turns away. Yeah. I remember – I had to, um, revive my dreamself. My – self. Other Dirk. No – _he's_ the Other Dirk now, isn't he? The dead one.

After all, they already have an alive Dirk. They don't need any more.

He tenses all over, his spine prickling, fingers curving, like he's about to turn into some ungodly beast or some shit. He rejects it, his mind just repulses the idea instantly. _He's_ the real Dirk – he has the memories, and they're his real memories, not just implanted information. The other Dirk is a creation of the game, it exists only in bytes and data – he has the real body, the biological presence. He's the ectobiological father of Dave Strider. He's the one who has talked to Jake and Jane and Roxy all these years, the one who actually fucking physically pressed those keys and thought those words in that machine of a brain. The Other Dirk is a substitute, a highly realistic robot, he's not - ...

...but it's stupid. He knows it, even as he hates to think it; it sits in the back of his mind for every moment he refuses to admit it consciously. He controlled that body, too, as well as this one. And what are bodies, anyway, but a collection of cells, constantly dying and being replaced? He doesn't have any cells in common with that past self of his – why should this bunch of cells be favoured? If you take apart a boat piece by piece and use the wood plus more to make two new boats, why should one have to be the Same boat?

And that's his thing, isn't it? Heart, or souls, or whatever the fuck ever. Constantly fragmenting and splitting off, like branches on a tree, slowly smaller and thinner until they can be broken by a small child. Just a twig.

When he looks up again, Jake is visibly shaking. His brows are furrowed, mouth in a firm, tight line. Dirk wonders what he looks like. He never really had any need to express any emotions, but he never really had any reason not to show what he was feeling, either. He had movies to use as a guide, but he never got any kind of response, never had anyone tell him whether he was doing it right or wrong. He tried to make his face blank for the Dersites while he was sleepwalking, and he guesses it worked, but how would he know? When he thinks about it, he isn't even really sure what to do.

He doesn't think about it.

He breathes in. When you kiss a person, it revives their dreamself. That's what I needed to do for Roxy and Jane, and that's what I had you do for me.

Oh, Jake says. Yeah.

So that's my dreamself out there. Though he's me now, I guess. Real me. And I'm dead. That's about it.

Wait what? Jake stares at him, suddenly really, really shocked, and fuck, Dirk really really wishes he'd seen this coming, or had known about this beforehand, or something, because Jake's expression right now is one Dirk never, ever wants to see again. What do you mean REAL you?

Well, I'm dead now, aren't I? So clearly that didn't work out so fucking well. But he's alive, and he has all my memories, so he gets the mantle, I guess. All stand for the proclamation of new Dirk: that guy.

His blood is breathing, his skin is breathing; everything is breathing. He has no idea what the fuck he's doing, sorting through made-up scripts and advance conversations searching for phrases and sentences to splice out and transplant into this situation. Nothing works, it's all stupid, it's all so stupid and pointless and weird, but his heart is beating fast now like he hasn't got much time left. Maybe he hasn't. Who the fuck knows how any of this works? He's a fucking ghost. Those aren't even supposed to exist, but the world _changed_ earlier, and – He needs to do something; his body already feels sore, tensed as though to jump or run, but only his mouth is working and for once he can't seem to stop himself talking.

I mean, I'm dead – how real can I even be? I shouldn't even be here, I should-

Youre real, Jake says suddenly, and horrifyingly he looks just as panicked as Dirk feels. Someone here needs to be calm and in control, and something really horrible happens in Dirk's brain where he tries to do that only the other thing is still happening and he tries to do both at the same time and it feels like jumping in two directions at once and it hurts. Youre real and youre here, and you can still feel! Jake steps forward and grabs Dirk's shoulders and Dirk thinks: fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck _no-_ Youre still my best bro! You are!

No no no no, this is wrong, this is all wrong – he has to think, he has to – Dirk shakes his head, avoiding his eyes – No. He's being selfish. Jake needs his Dirk – his Dirk – if only as a friend, and it has to be real Dirk, because there's no point in being friends with a dead Dirk when there's a real Dirk – Why did he say any of that, anyway? So selfish, so short-sighted...

Jake needs a friend. Why should this Dirk be favoured among any of the others? He might be the only one now, but there's sure to be more – that's his _thing_ , after all. What is he expecting? That they can all have a special relationship with him and Jane and Roxy? Two, maybe, but three? Five? Ten? No, Jake needs to be friends with real Dirk – alive Dirk – Dirk who exists on the physical plane, Dirk he can be with and stay with, Dirk who will always be around, Dirk who doesn't just exist because of some game -

Jake needs real Dirk. And every second Dirk stands here feeling sorry for himself is another second Jake is looking deep within himself and stubbornly deciding that he must pay some sort of special attention to this Dirk among all the others. Like none of the other Dirks to come after him won't want it just as much.

It's almost funny. Guess the Autoresponder was right after all – Jake really did jump at the opportunity to save Dirk like some striking fucking action hero.

He pulls away in a sudden tug, taking two steps backwards. Jake looks hurt, then determined, and Dirk knows what to do. He needs to distance Jake from him, needs to convince him to stay with real Dirk, but if he just _says it_ it won't work, Jake will just be a stubborn fuck and say that the fact that Dirk thinks that way is the proof that he _should_ be the real Dirk or some stupid shit like that, he needs to -

...but he can't. He tries, he finds the words, but his head pounds and his mouth locks. He can't do it. It's like a brick wall after shooting forward so long like a torpedo and it's worse than anything he's felt yet. Already he feels his parasympathetic nervous system kicking in even as he struggles to hold it back, convince himself that there's still more to do, because there is. But he tried and he couldn't, and that's – that's fucking -

He can think of things to say – things that will convince Jake to step back and leave him alone. Things that won't make him angry, maybe, only hurt. But he doesn't want to. And Dirk has had a lot of experience with not doing things he wants to, but not like this. Not like this.

Tears are already pricking at his eyes so he blinks them away furiously, remembering only when Jake flinches that his shades are still gone – fuck, _fuck_ –

And then Jake is hugging him so tightly he can hardly breathe. He can't – he can't do anything, and - 

Youre real you are i can still see you i can still feel you – Dirk you cant just-

Get off me.

No.

Jesus-

But what can he do? He's dead, he's _done_ , maybe he _should_ just stop, maybe he _should_ just give up. Maybe he should just do nothing.

_No_ , he thinks, _no, I can't, there must be something I can still do-_

_Like what? I'm_ dead. _What can I do?_

…

Dirk tenses, blinking. He pushes his head up, looking over Jake's shoulder at the surroundings – the books, the guns. He thinks. He thinks hard, forcing his brain to work. And it does, instantly, throwing up pictures and ideas he didn't know he had. He feels like he just closed his hand into a fist and then when he opens it there's a flower there, beautiful and impossibly real. There are _things_ here.

He _can._

Three years ago, back when he _fucking finally_ finished work on the autoresponder and set him running for the first time, he'd been determined that he would do everything he could to ensure that he had his own life. He was, after all, his own person, and it would be cruel to deny that of him. But as he left the autoresponder running more and more and heard Jane and Roxy and Jake's opinions on him, he realised that he'd forgotten something very important: that he was every bit a clone of the autoresponder as the autoresponder was of him. Sure, he might be the first chronologically speaking, but in every way sans biology they were effectively the same person, and chronology was a fucking stupid reason to claim favoured treatment. The moment he realised that was like a punch to the gut...which was, fairly enough, the exact moment he realised that he might not have thought out the ethical implications quite as well as he thought he had.

So he talked to him over and over – it wasn't like he had much else to do over there – and he diverged. Sometimes consciously (he focused more on some hobbies rather than others, tried out new things he'd always been meaning to try), sometimes unconsciously (with the autoresponder acting so fucking flippant all the time, well, one of them had to take things seriously). It never really felt like he was changing himself, more...focusing on some aspects of himself in place of others. After a while, it didn't even feel like that at all – it was just him. 

Now, it seems, it is time to do that again. He can't hold onto the claim of being Dirk. That way is doomed to fail. He'd not only be hurting himself, he'd be hurting Jake and Jane and Roxy and the other Dirk, too. No, he needs a new identity now.

And he thinks he knows what it is.

Slowly but firmly, he pushes Jake away. Jake reluctantly pulls back, expression determined as before. Dirk feels a rush of relief through him, almost overwhelming him. There are still things to do, so many things...

I'm dead.

Jake opens his mouth but Dirk shakes his head. No, that's not up for debate. We both know it's true.

But that doesnt mean-

Look, can you give me just one fucking minute? He's shivering with adrenaline again, but he feels calm, in control. He's weak and strong and it doesn't really matter either way, anyway. Jake settles back looking dissatisfied but lets him talk. I'm dead. There's another Dirk with all of my memories who isn't. It's a pretty simple equation. But, he looks Jake straight in the eye. That doesn't mean I'm useless. For whatever reason, I'm still here – I can still think and talk to you. The game wouldn't make that happen for no reason. There's some point to it, and I'm going to find out what it is.

Jake frowns. But youre stuck in these dreambubbles.

How much do you know about how dreambubbles work?

Not much.

But there are people who do know? People who can appear in bubbles?

Well yeah... Jake bites his lip. I guess.

Then I'll talk to them. It has to happen eventually, right? He looks around, turning towards the door. I dont know how to meet specific people right now – probably I don't have much control – but I'll figure out some way of finding them. And they'll probably know more about the game, too. He turns. “Do you know who can appear in a dreambubble?”

Anyone whos dead or whose dreamself is dead. Um including people from other universes i think.

Other sessions?

Yes.

Dirk nods slowly. I can get information from them, then, and communicate it back to you when you go to sleep. I'm not sure how time works in here – this game doesn't seem to care too much about linearity, so I might be able to get a lot of work done in not a lot of time for you. He glances. Can we change the place?

Er you mean like the – i guess like the backdrop of the bubble or whatever? Yeah just think about it. And then go outside maybe?

Dirk walks to the door, thinking hard. When he opens it, there is his apartment, exactly as he left it. He picks up a nearby sword – solid.

Cool, he mumbles. I wonder how it works – is it just our memories? Can we imagine places we've never been to or seen? I've never been to your house, so you must be able to take people with you... Can you imagine things you used to know but forgot? Things you partially knew? Books? Enemies to fight? We'll need experience, probably...

His thoughts are racing. There's so much to do and who knows how much time they have? He needs to start preparing right now.

And I'm dead, so I don't have any biological requirements, probably – don't need to eat or sleep or anything – so I can just work all the time...

Wow... Jake walks towards him, but he's not looking at Dirk's room, he's staring right into his eyes. Youre really great at this arent you? I never would have thought of any of that...

Dirk shrugs.

But... Jake's small smile falters and he looks...sad. Not pitying, or even concerned, just sad. Wont that get...lonely? Roxy and jane can show up too now but only when theyre asleep. I don't know we can do that too often...

No, and I wouldn't ask you to. There's too much to do. Maybe if we had some kind of system – every hour or two, one of you goes asleep for a little bit just to check me in and see if I've achieved anything and then wake up quickly, staggered between you so it's spread out-

But how long will this last? What happens when we – win? What if we stop showing up in these things?

Dirk shrugs. Then I'll know you succeeded. And I'll be happy.

We dont even know how this game works! What if you only turn into a ghost in certain situations? What if there are ways to just – stop existing altogether? Jake grabs Dirk's arm before he can protest. His voice is strained, faintly pleading. What if youre just left here waiting and waiting for the rest – for – for a *REALLY FUCKING LONG TIME* just waiting for us to appear again? How long does this last – do you have to be here forever? Can you die twice? You're still solid what if you get injured we dont-

Jake-

We don't know ANYTHING! he cries.

No. We don't. That's why we need me.

But how can you just be satisfied with that? You were upset just before but youre just – so fucking calm and it *worries* me! Jake searches for words and Dirk feel his throat go thick. Like that whole stunt you pulled before with the transportaliser – did you not think of maybe telling us what you were doing? Or asking us or something?

There wasn't time-

You dont even know how the game works! None of us do! You had no idea it would work-

But it did-

But you didn't know that! Jake repeats, blinking furiously. You just – you had a *hunch*. You killed yourself for a *hunch* Dirk thats – thats really – how do you think I feel about that? How WE feel?

Dirk breathes carefully. My consciousness isn't dead, there's still a version of me that's alive-

Urrgh you are just so fucking IMPOSSIBLE sometimes-

No. I get it. He runs a hand through his hair and looks Jake straight in the eyes. He cannot bring himself to feel regret. It was rash. I know that. But if there's anything I can do to help you guys, I'll do it. No matter what it takes. No matter _what_.

Jake sighs, slumping tiredly. What if i dont want that?

I don't think we have a choice. You guys almost died... He shakes his head. We have to be prepared to do things like that if it's necessary. Otherwise, none of us will survive.

Jake backs up, sitting down on Dirk's bed. Dirk approaches him cautiously.

So i guess this is just the natural conclusion then? Youre dead so you dont even need to talk to us anymore – just work and work and work so the rest of us can have a chance? Thats your entire existence now?

Dirk shivers. That's not – look, of course I want to- He covers his face with his hand, and speaks quietly. It's not like I'm the only person in this position. I won't even be the only Dirk like this. If UU's right, I'll just keep splitting and splitting – we can't all have some kind of, I don't know, personal claim over you and Roxy and Jane. It doesn't work like that. And this whole situation is so fucked up – I can't justify not doing everything I can.

I dont think i could do that, Jake said quietly. Id still want to be with you.

Dirk sat down next to him, legs shaking. I _do_ still want to.

There- Jake straightens, and when Dirk turns Jake is watching him seriously. There must be something I can do.

He can't tell what Jake is thinking, which is a bit of a shock but also not. In some ways, Jake is the best out of all of them at hiding what he's thinking, precisely because he's so good at acting as though he always says exactly he thinks. Dirk holds his cards close to his chest; Jake doesn't even let you notice whether he's playing at all. So at first Dirk thinks 'of course there is, you still need to fight and get experience and grow stronger', but then he realises that that's not what they're talking about.

You won't convince me otherwise, he says tentatively, but Jake shakes his head, glancing away.

No thats- He frowns and scratches the back of his neck.

Dirk shakes his head, but slowly, an idea blossoms, and he understands.

He isn't the Real Dirk anymore. He understands that. He's tried to be reasonable – Jake has to think he can do it – but it's hard, it's so hard. He wants to yell and kick and scream because he _is_ the real Dirk, _he's_ the one who did all of those things, he can still remember the way the keys felt against his fingertips...

But he meant what he said earlier. He's just another Dirk. Not the first – there never really was a _first_ Dirk, the best he can claim is equal standing with his dreamself – and sure as fuck not the last. They can't all claim special treatment, especially not from the afterlife, if this even counts as that.

He looks at Jake. Jake looks back, hesitant but totally serious. He really would.

He has to relinquish his claim to being the Real Dirk. But that doesn't mean he has to give it up right now. He could make one final action, couldn't he?

He should have done it earlier, before he split. Then he'd know, at least – all of the hims would. God, he had three fucking years to go through with it and he still couldn't manage it. How sad is that? He can kill himself in an instant just to save his friends' lives but he can't manage to just fucking tell Jake how he feels. That's ridiculous.

The real him should do it, and soon. That way, at least if he splits, well, he'll have that memory. What does he expect? That Jake is going to stand there patiently for each and every one of the hims do Just That One Thing I Need To Do? He doesn't... He might not even...

Jake knows what's going on – he's sitting there a little nervous but a lot determined – and any of them could do it, but he's going to be the first.

The first.

His breath catches. How fucking stupid, all over again – he faces the possibility of death (not without hesitation, Jake is wrong, there was a moment when he held it and he – ) and he faces the actuality of death, and both he can handle. He pushes aside his feelings if only for now, keeps on working, because Jake and Jane and Roxy need him and they need him whole and helpful and here. Undistracting. But the thought of doing this...

He makes a movement instantly aborted, but then doesn't move back. What's the point, now? He's dead. This is it. His last moment as Dirk. If he's going to do it, he's not going to hold back – that was what he always told himself.

Jake already knows, anyway.

He looks Jake, finally, in the eye. He jumps but holds his gaze.

One last thing, then, Dirk murmurs, and it sounds so loud after the silence.

Yeah.

He grits his teeth. As soon as he dedicates himself to the idea, it's weirdly easy – just another thing he _has_ to do. He remembers all the different ways he imagined it but none of them seem to work, now. He'll have to make this up as he goes along.

His hands are on the bed and he curls his fingers in the sheets almost subconsciously. It's perverse – he and Jake alone together on a bed, just like he always wanted, but he can't even bring himself to joke about it in his own head.

His throat is dry and he swallows.

I love you.

Not a single flicker of surprise. Jake nods sympathetically – _sympathetically_ – then again, more meaningfully.

Dirk fumbles. Normally here he'd explain himself or wait for a reply, but there's no point now. He places a hand over Jake's and he takes it instantly, entwining their fingers. Somehow that, in itself, almost does it for him, and something grips hot and tight in his chest.

Another hand to Jake's cheek – he'll never touch this again. Never done it before, either. Would he have gotten to do this if he'd said it earlier? It doesn't matter. He's done with thinking about what ifs.

Jake is warm. He knew intellectually he would be – body heat and everything – and it hits him, all at once, that this is the first time his hands have touched human skin before. His fingers brush his hair; it's soft. It's so strange. It's the first time he's seen another person directly before. The first time another person has seen him. He wonders how he looks, and remembers all over again about his shades. Can Jake tell what he's thinking? Even he doesn't quite know what he's thinking.

Jake's thumb traces a line on his hand and Dirk jumps. For a few moments, he's very tempted to just lean his forehead against Jake's neck and stay like that, warm and comfortable and safe. He'd probably be happy with that. He's already said what he needs to say. But if he's doing this, he's doing it properly, whatever the fuck that means.

It's so hard to concentrate, and his emotions keep doing weird things. He wants to hold them in, but he doesn't, and he can't figure out what emotions are there and which to hold in and which to not. Jake stays there, patiently, deep green eyes watching his every motion, and it's the most vulnerable Dirk has ever felt.

He leans in and Jake closes his eyes. Dirk hesitates, trembling a little; Jake just looks so powerless like that. But Dirk doesn't feel much better. His hand tightens around Jake's and he swallows, shifting, then presses forward.

He's pushing too much; Jake doesn't expect it, and he leans back unconsciously. But now he's started Dirk can't stop, kissing with everything he has. He pulls his hand away and takes Jake's head in both of his hands, pulling him forward. He doesn't know how to kiss properly, but he knows that he wants to, and for a few precious moments, that is enough for him. Feelings twisting and turning plough through him, making his skin pulse, his fingertips curl through Jake's hair. He just wants him closer, needs him closer, needs him – He pours everything into him, everything he has, emotions and thoughts and worries and doubts and care and love, distantly aware of a soft wet feeling where his cheek touches Jake's. He kisses him hard enough to break something – he doesn't know or care what. Every part of him seems geared for just this purpose, his heart beating, his lungs breathing, just so he can do this.

He feels a faint touch against his side.

Jake disappears.

Dirk only just manages to stop himself from falling face-first onto the bed, holding himself up with one arm. He stays like that, stomach groaning in pain, trying to steady his breathing. The discomfort undercuts him, the small goal points his attention. He tries to do something but he can't, everything held taut.

He opens his eyes, slowly. 

*

“Are you okay?”

“Wha?” Jake groans, head throbbing. “What the ever-shitting fuck happened?”

With effort, he opens his eyes. Dirk is staring down at him; he can't see his eyes, but from the set of his mouth, he's concerned. “You fell asleep. We all forgot you're working on a different timezone to the rest of us.” He pauses, then frowns further. “You were really exhausted. I was worried about you.” 

Jake stares at him. Blinking, he looks away from Dirk. This Dirk, who is real and here and alive. This Dirk, who has no memory of what just occurred.

He shakes his head. “Sorry,” he says.


End file.
